Thursday, August 18, 2016

I'll Admit



I’ll admit I wanted Your blessings.
I’ll admit I’ve wanted Your praise.
I’ll admit that I wanted to see Your goodness
Manifested all my days.

I’ll admit I remember You
When You reveal Your miracles and mysteries.
I’ll admit that I have forgotten You
When life’s anxiousness distresses;
Confounding my emotions with my spirit.

I’ll admit doubt may shroud my mind,
As my sight fails to discern what lies ahead.
But, I’ll admit I shout my loudest
When everything falls perfectly into place.

I’ll admit I am grateful that You are faithful.
You are a Father that gives good gifts.  Indeed!
You see my needs and complete them.
I’ll admit, You know my desires and the plans You have
Exceed my original imaginations of what life is to be.

But I admit
I worship You for Your manna.

Yet, are You not more
Than what You do,
God?

You fashioned all with just a word.
Existence emerged as You opened
Your mouth, speaking breath into life.
Your hands cradle even the galaxies.
Your vision expanses beyond all things,
At all times, surpassing the creation of the clock itself. 

You are good.
You are holy.
You are worthy.

Your majesty’s vastness surpasses the stretch
Of the finite sight.  Your love sinks lower
Than the deepest soils sunk beneath the ocean.
Oh the cliché! You hold the world in Your hand –
Your sovereignty flies higher than the elevation
The mighty eagle can soar.

Do I realize that this is You
-Who is GOD - I am speaking of;
To Whom I make known my prayers;
The One I meet every Sunday morn?
Do I adore You for Your gifts, only,
Or do I worship You, because You deserve it?

For You are not a genie,
But a King! You are Lord,
Not a child who answers my demands.
Oh God, give me
A passion to worship You
In Spirit and Truth!

If I actually sat and pondered on the Being
Who goes by the name of I AM,
The rush that tempts me to flee
The sanctuary would itself leave.
I would breathe more slowly,
Savor each breath, only left wanting
To offer it to the One who gave me life.
I would sit more reverently at Your feet,
And hold onto Your hand more tightly.
I would become more thankful for the blood shed,
And return the love You have for me.
I would learn to tie my soul to Yours;
My spirit echoing Heaven’s Most Holy Crowned.

How Great Thou Art!
Indeed!!

I’ll admit: You are God,
Worthy of my worship…

As You are.






Monday, July 4, 2016

Heartbreak from Racism - Learning to Forgive



















"Forsaking the Shame and Loving in the Midst of Sin"

It’s the 21st century.  I thought
We were past this.
I believed that things had changed.
At least…certainly
Among those who worship the same
God.  How could I know?
My heart aches from the hatred, ignorance,
Or disdain; the disillusioned thoughts
They hold of reality.

Enough of the pointing fingers.
Haven’t we done enough
Already?  What good has it done?

I do wish things were different.
Rather than carrying the old sentiments
Of the past, we could decide to learn from them.
If only we could get past this judgment
Of one another…based off the color of skin
And the stories we have heard.
Yet, it is not so at this moment.

But what could I do?

God, reckon my heart.
Yield its emotions toward Your redemption
And restore the sanctity of forgiveness.
I have been pained for a People
Who hear more words of death than life;
Who, though the first of the land,
Have subsequently become the last on our minds.
The more my thoughts think of the offense,
The deeper my frustration…
And without any logical consent,
I, then, join in the dumping of mud
That has become cyclical…

Racism.  Such a dirty thing.
The paradox of it all:
Unity of the Body has become broken
Because the past hurts and stereotypes
Are welcomed beyond that of a handshake.

And I judged.
And I withheld love,
Because, as I justified,
“How dare they who love You
Undignify those who were created in the image of You;
As in the same way as we?”
But I was wrong.
As heartbreaking as it is to admit
This sin, it is no greater or less
Than the ones committed in the past.
As horrendous the hypocrisy,
Truth is, those who are in the wrong
Know not what they do…

They are only spouting off what they heard.
How could they know anything else?

Forgive them, Lord.
For even the blood of Christ was shed
For even the most offensive of wrongs.
I cannot hold onto what You have pardoned.

I do ask for a renewing of their minds.
I do ask that You would bring truth to their understanding.
But rather than my zealous words imparting,
I will trust You will do it. 
Your hand must be the one to clean the water.
Hatred has stirred enough dirt to poison the hearts of generations.
We have not allowed ourselves to move past these hurts,
For we have sought after justification with
Our own guilt-ridden hands. 
For none are righteous.  Each of us are as filthy rags…

Nevertheless, You make all things new.

Lastly, this blame I bear can no longer be my own.
The hidden sin I fear to have tainted my name
Must be forgiven, healed;
This shame has to be forsaken. 
This weight no longer is mine, for I am not defined
By what the faces of my ancestry have committed.
You make all things new, and that includes
My being, my heritage, and my name.

You decided to keep no records of wrong -
Not of my accord.  May I forgive the sin unknown
And love through the midst of it. 

Monday, June 20, 2016

NOW is the Time for...Healing (A Personal Movie Review and What God did for Me at IYC 2016)



"For He says: "In an acceptable time I have heard you, And in the day of salvation I have helped you." Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation...For this reason I bow my knees to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, from whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named, that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with might through His Spirit in the inner man, that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the width and length and depth and height-- to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge; that you may be filled with all the fullness of God." - 2 Corinthians 6:2; Ephesians 3:14-19 
 


      I remember the first time I saw the trailer for “Me Before You”.  Emotions stirred as I saw how a woman fell in love with a quadriplegic man, seeing him for all he was; she didn’t stall by the physical apprehensions his body held.  In fact, I watched the trailer twice.  Oh man, how I wished that someone could love me like Lou loved Will.  How I longed for someone to look past my physical disability, and love me for me.  Chick flicks have never been my thing.  Nevertheless, I have desired to be in a relationship…someday.  And when a romantic film comes out depicting one of the main characters as having a flaw; primarily, a physical one, I take notice, because the movie relays an individual looking beyond the brokenness and loving the person, either in spite of it, or overlooking it altogether.  I remember asking a friend, several years back, if it was bad that I desired to meet my future husband before I was healed.  Because if he knew me before any healing took place, then I believed that I could be convinced that my husband will love me unconditionally.  Oh, the poor man…What an expectation I would put on him.  One in which he should not have to bear, in any such manner.  Bless his soul if he did marry me while I was still in that same frame of mind. 
     One has to ask a question of why was I so drawn to such a plot-line.  What is the thing in me that awoke, making the movie go beyond that of entertainment?   These thoughts and emotions, though stirred by a romantic film, actually go beyond any discussion of relationships.  Yes, I have longed to be loved romantically.  But what the movie, “Me Before You”, relates is an individual valuing another person…though the eye sees it, the heart is blind to the brokenness that is so obvious to the person who lives with the disability.  That’s what I have longed for my whole life.  That the flaws and brokenness I see in myself would be invisible to those around me.  This goes into a life-long root of identity.  And despite what any friends could say, I still saw myself as the handicapped one of the group.  Broken.  Sublevel.  Valueless. 
     Honestly, I know these beliefs started forming before adulthood.  I think in the effort women in my family used to keep me safe as a child (because, God knows I could be more prone to injury due to living with cerebral palsy and a seizure disorder…), fear, rather than faith, was spoken over me.  I am not blaming them.  I know they meant well.  It was in the mannerisms in which they kept my safety that led into more of this fear, however.  And since I couldn’t stand them being so fearful for me, I did anything and everything I could to defy them.  I swam in open water…by myself.  I climbed mountains.  Played sports.  I would intentionally push my limits, because, in my mind, no one was going to question my ability.  And no one was going to question my value as a person. 
     I played tough with my friends.  First and foremost, yes, because I partially had to, knowing I had to compensate for my right side, by over-using my left side.  Additionally, it was inwardly to prove something.  I play so tough, that some of my male friends have dubbed me, “Lenovich.”  A name that, as they describe, embodies the picture of a tough Polish hockey player you may or may not want to mess with.  Thing is, my friends have never said that I was less than them.  They have never looked at me as having any less value, or not being able to assist in work or ministry despite living with a disability.  Nevertheless, I have lived, for 26 years, with an instinct that friends and acquaintances might.  And that “might” was enough of a drive to push me to prove myself to the ones that are closest to me.
     That is…until recently. 
     Going back to the film, I read an article on the “Me Before You” film.  Spoiler alert: Will dies, and it is because he travels to Switzerland to have an assisted suicide performed. 
     Bam!  Just like that, my heart broke.  Not necessarily because one of the main characters die.  Yes, it is sad.  Would’ve loved the idea that Lou and Will eventually got married, had a family, and lived life out.  But I had already heard that Will dies at the end.  However, I thought it was due to a terminal illness, not because Will couldn’t stand to live life out in his wheelchair, so he decides that it’s better he is dead than learning to live life differently since he no longer has the use of his legs. 
     No, my heart broke, because one of the main characters couldn’t see himself worthy of living, despite his circumstances.  Living with cerebral palsy, and being a part of a community that lives with disabilities, as well as being a Special Education teacher, I take this seriously.  Now, I have neither read the book, nor watched the film.  I am probably judging this work, before really seeing it.  Perhaps the author wrote the ending as such, to display that even as much as we love someone who struggles, we cannot save them.  I have read a little bit about it, and know that Lou’s character did all she could to persuade Will that he was worth living for, living with, and loving.  But, I can’t get it out of my head the message that may be sent to the disabled community:  “Because your body/mind is disabled, that means you are broken, and you are better off dead.”  Again, I do not mean to judge the author, but sometimes things are written, and unintentional things are translated; perhaps the author had no clue what she displayed in writing Will’s death by means of suicide.
     All I knew is that after I read that article, saw the message given, I knew automatically, that it (the message) was a deliberate lie from the devil.  How dare he say that I have no value; that I am better off dead?!  I don’t know what it is…but I have noticed that sometimes it takes a direct attack from the enemy to know that you’re worth fighting for.  Something finally clicked that I was –no, I am – worth something.  I have just as much value as anyone I pass by.  Living with a disability does not mean that I am better off dead – even if that death is in the form of the way I live. 
     This happened June 11, 2016.  I, then, was leaving my parents’ home for Indian Youth Camp the next day.  This year was my second year at IYC, and my expectations were to serve the kids who would be attending.  I spent the week before praying for the camp, and expecting God to move in the campers’ lives.  The idea that I would personally receive something wasn’t exactly at the forefront of my mind.  It wasn’t that I didn’t believe I could receive anything; it’s just that often times when one ministers, they may not expect to be ministered to (I don’t know why that is, sometimes). 
     Anyway, I decided to sit in the youth services, after I ran my errands for the camp in Kalispell.  The first night, Pastor John Weasel talked about how we are all in need of something.  He also discussed how so often, it is in our nature to not want to ask for help.  We will try to do everything we possibly can in a situation before finally asking help, because we do not like to admit that we may need someone else.  The next night, he preached on shame, and how it twists the perspective we have of ourselves, because we see the bad things in us, and we then do not trust ourselves to be vulnerable with anyone, even God, because we have a guilt that pushes away.
     A need for help.  Shame.  Yeah, I have dealt with those.   In the back of my mind, I admitted it too.  After praying for the kids that had gone up forward, responding to the message, I felt that God wanted me to ponder on what had been said…but for me.  I never wanted to admit help growing up, because there was a shame I held.  I believed that my identity was defined by my physical need, and in that need, I was less than others.  It pushed me to prove that I was just as valuable as those around me.  My identity was based on my fear of their possible perception of me.  Note the possibility, not the actuality.  My friends have not treated me as subhuman due to any disabilities I live with, but in meeting new people, it was an apprehension I hid. 
     I think God wanted to break that apprehension off of me, for good.  I had a friend who once asked me if I believed I was whole, in spite of living with cerebral palsy.  I said, “Yes,” but I wonder if it was to save face, or I didn’t want to get into the subject any deeper, as we were with two other friends who would’ve been new to these inward thoughts of mine.  Perhaps I wanted to believe, but just couldn’t seem to grasp it.  Either way, I went to IYC, though growing closer to God, still living with a life-long rooted lie…and it was about time it was going to be ripped out of the soil.  However, I came to camp to serve and minister.  And so, though I knew that I related to what was spoken, I inwardly knew that God was going to have to chase me a bit more directly to convince me that He wanted to address this root head-on.
     Monday night of camp:  During worship, I saw a picture of someone running up behind me and giving me a big wrap-your-arms-around kind of hug.  And the understanding was that person was Jesus.
     Tuesday night:  This was the night I admitted that I needed to let God talk to me.  A lady came by and felt like she should pray for me.  She mentioned a breaking off of generational curses, forgiveness, and healing.  That God would meet me in the midst of any loneliness.  If I heard her correctly, she also mentioned my healing would open doors of healing; a healing for physical, as well as inward wounds.  We talked after she prayed, and she mentioned that it was through our brokenness, God’s light is able to be shown through to the world.  It is in our brokenness that He is made perfect, and thus He deserves all the glory.
    Thursday night: After another alter call, a friend of mine came up to me, and felt the need to pray with and for me.  (Again, seriously?  And mind you, I never went to these ladies.  They both saw me from a distance, and felt the need to pray for me.  God really wanted me to get something through, I’m sure.)  She felt that God told her that He has great plans for me, but there has been a belief that I can’t obtain those plans.  There was also a need to pray protection from Satan, because he would like for me to believe that God’s plans for me aren’t true.  She prayed that the truths and promises I have prayed for the students at IYC, would also be internalized within me.  That these would then be deepened in my core, and wash over me like waves.  She then asked me how I felt after all these things…
     I feel assured, confident, whole.  Yes, whole.  Truly.  Something had awakened that the truths of God are truths for me.  I knew it, but finally, I feel this truth has addressed a life-long lie, one that has been rooted since I was a little girl.  It cornered this lie to such an extent that it couldn’t mask itself any longer, and must be done away with. 
     I have used strength and toughness to cover my weakness, because I feared that it would lower my value in peoples’ eyes.  But God…He is the definition of my identity, and the determination of my worth.  I realized after reading the commentary of the “Me Before You” film, and the confirming things spoken during camp, that I have nothing to prove, because there is nothing to prove.  God does not see me as His little handicapped daughter (the view I lived so long fearing others saw me as) – never did; rather His love is deeper and more intimate, like the husband who sees his bride as whole. 
     God’s love is immeasurable, and because I have been made in the image of God, I am valuable.  I am not meant to be thrown away, despite my physical background.  As one of the worship songs at camp stated: “How can I say that I am lost when You have called me found?”  Point deeply taken. I need to stop describing myself as broken, when God has declared me whole in Him.  I’ve been saved since I was 10 years old, but 26 years is a long time to hold onto a fear despite being His child.  It’s about time I throw off that old root, and see myself as my Father sees me.